Stained
by ForTheGlory
Summary: "Captain America wouldn't have sex. He wouldn't know a think about sex. Being 'pure' is largely an assumption people place upon me when it's widely know that I'm still, all things considered, a virgin. I might be ignorant and bashful at times to new things and the way they work in this age, but I'm sure as hell not innocent, Tony."
1. Stained

It didn't take very long for Steve to get used to Tony's flirting and blatant sexual language around the tower. He had done his research and knew well enough that Tony was very similar to his father in regards to sex. Cavalier, ghjkl. The man had had multiple partners and wasn't particularly shy about giving details of his escapades if someone asked. Steve learned to ignore it, to let it mostly drift in one ear and out the other. Occasional second hand arousal from Tony's stories and images of the man in compromising and otherwise lewd acts. For the most part, nothing he couldn't handle. It only started to become a problem when Tony suddenly turned this flirting to his direction.

It started subtle at first. He had barely noticed it until Natasha had rolled her eyes and told them to, "Tone the flirting down, boys." And Steve felt as though he had been slapped in the face. No, this wasn't flirting, casual touches, smirks from across the room, occasional winks, and joking between pals. This was what friends did. So he thought, until the flirting began to get more bold without the company of others.

"Bite me, Stark."

"Oh, believe me, I'd like to."

"Hit the showers."

"Sure thing. Join me?"

"Ah, fuck me."

"If you're offering."

"I have you! Tap out!"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just establish a safe word."

Steve had just been brushing them off, dismissing them as Tony's idea of a joke. If a cruel one. After all, there was hardly anyone he didn't flirt with, why should Steve be special? Natasha had offered to make Tony stop if it made him uncomfortable, but he assured her it didn't.

"I'm not so damn precious and innocent, Nat. Jesus…" That was the first time she had looked genuinely and openly surprised in front of him. It was the truth, and she hadn't been expecting that. It was a truth that made him shut down one day when Tony's flirting happened to push a button. "I'm going down." He called out to Tony, sitting in the penthouse absentmindedly working on his tablet.

"As long as it's down on me." He froze in front of the elevator and Tony looked up moments later when he failed to register the sound of the lift arriving and leaving. "Steve?" The super soldier trembled on the spot, eyes unblinking and fixated on the floor, while his hands turned to threatening balled up fists. Tony shifted on his chair, uncertain, "Steve?" he called out again and the other whipped towards him.

"Don't…you can't! Can't just- _joke_ about that!" He spat angrily, chest heaving hard, reminiscent of when he used to have terrifying asthma attacks. Tony spoke again and approached him but he tore away to the stairs, not currently possessing the will to wait for the elevator. He had meant to go back to his own apartment, but instead he went further down to the gym. JARVIS confirmed no one was in there at the moment. When he stumbled into the dimly lit room, it sparked to life, illuminating the hard wood floor. Not exactly the most comfortable place, but certainly better than holing up in his apartment where the team would worry individually outside his door. He ordered JARVIS to lie to everyone and report that he was in the apartment, and locked the gym doors.

He moved as though on automatic, barely registering his actions as he picked up a fresh punching bag and hung it up. He wasn't even entirely sure he wrapped his hands before he started to hit the bag mercilessly. Not that it would matter. Whatever he damaged would heal up. He just couldn't let the tears that were pooling in his eyes drop. He just wanted his throat to feel like it wasn't being choked. He wanted to stop feeling like he wasn't getting enough air, despite no longer having asthma. He struck the bag harder and harder again until it tore open and he fell to his knees, letting the sobs roll over his frame and escape him. God, he hadn't thought about it for so long, why did it still have to hurt? The memory hung in the back of his mind, fresh as ever despite the gap of time since it had happened.

It had started out innocent enough. A few times a week, no big deal. But he was 95 pounds of sickly, malnourished stupid that fought like a man three times his size, despite it never working for him. And it didn't take people long to figure that out.

"Just-pay me, damn it!" He launched himself at the larger man and knocked him to the wall. The man let out a sound of air escaping his lungs and Steve hoped to God it was enough. It wasn't. The man decked him, cutting his cheek and flooring him.

"I ain't gonna pay you shit, fairy boy!" Steve scrambled up and swung, just barely grazing the other's chest as he stepped away. He laughed, an ugly guffaw. "Get out of here kid! You ain't getting any cash outta me, not for a shitty blow job!"

"Doesn't look so shitty to me." Another voice spoke and the man was sprawled out on the ground next to Steve, knocked out. Steve's stomach sank. He knew that voice. "Take everything from his wallet. He deserves it." Bucky said without humor or a hint of a smile on his face. His brow knitted itself together and his mouth puckered angrily. Shit, he was pissed.

"Buck-" Steve tried to explain himself but the brunette cut him off.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Steve?" He hissed, glaring at his friend. Steve hoped they were still friends. Steve straightened and arranged his face into an equally steely expression.

"You gonna turn me in then?" His heart was beating heavy in his chest. It took everything he had not to shake from fear of losing his friend. He had neglected to mention any interest in men to Bucky, despite trusting him. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt on the matter, and didn't want to lose him as a friend. Particularly because Steve had been mooning over him for some time. He could have jumped for joy when the other rolled his eyes, letting the anger slip from his face for a moment.

"I don't give a shit who you're sweet on, Steve. We can't take a walk around the block without running into some guys going at it. I'm just not too excited about the idea of my friend selling himself in back allies. Sorry if I'm a little concerned for you. Just what the hell are you doing here?" Steve opened his mouth, "No, don't answer me. I know exactly what you're doing here and I don't like it. Clean yourself up, I can't look at you like this." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Steve with a sigh. He couldn't help feeling embarrassed and his face flushed as he wiped himself clean. The guy hadn't exactly been a…gentleman, and Steve's mouth and neck were spattered with cum.

"I need the money, Buck." He wasn't looking at him anymore, and had chosen to scowl at the wall instead.

"So you go and do this? Steve, I don't give a damn if you're into dames or fellas, but doing this? There are better, less dangerous ways of getting paid. And I'm really damn-" he swallowed, "-pissed that you're blowing guys for cash instead of coming to me for help first." Shit, that sent a pang of guilt through him.

"I can't keep taking money from you, Bucky. I can't keep depending on you like that, I gotta do something." Bucky barked out an angry laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, damn it! This isn't your first time doing this, is it?" Steve looked away. He couldn't look him in the eye, not now. "Yeah, I didn't think so. How many times has this bullshit happened?" He gestured to the passed out man.

"This is the first." Steve answered a little too quickly.

"No it isn't. Maybe it's only the third or second, I don't know, but this isn't going to be the last if you keep this up. You can't depend on me to rescue you, Steve. I know you wouldn't anyways, but a strong breeze would knock your 90 pound ass over. You can't keep creeps like this off you. What's going to happen if there's someone worse than this guy? Bigger than this guy? I can't always be around the corner to keep 'em off you."

"You don't have to. I'm 95 pounds." Steve gave a crooked smile and looked up at the other man, who snorted.

"Yeah, how could I forget those five whole pounds? That's what, 1/12 your weight?"

"Not really, but nice try." Bucky shrugged, visibly less upset now.

"Eh, math. We ditched it a few too many times." He turned his eyes back to the blonde, eyes full of worry. "You're not letting these creeps fuck you, are you?" He looked like he was going to be sick from the thought of it.

"No, Buck. God." Steve blushed again. "Nothing like that." Bucky nodded absentmindedly, still swimming in apprehension.

"Look, if this is what you want to do, I can't stop you. I could try, but you're an asshole and you would just do it anyways. So I'm just going to ask once; please be safe." Steve's stomach turned in guilt, but he donned a smile to reassure his friend.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Promise." Bucky nodded again and put his arm around Steve's small frame to pull him into a semi-hug.

"I trust you. Now, grab this asshole's cash and we'll walk back to your apartment. I think you're done for the day."

It was only two weeks later when Steve had wished, fuck how he had wished, that he had listened to Bucky and stopped. But, as the brunette had always reminded him, he was a stubborn shit. And this was one of those times where it came back to bite him in the ass.

The whole job had started out normal. The guy had sauntered confidently over to Steve and asked what he was charging. It was a well enough known area that formalities could be excluded, thank goodness. They had gone back into a secluded alley and Steve had taken his money up front (a recommendation from Bucky). He probably should have felt something was wrong when the stranger had convinced him to move into the corner of two buildings, but he had gone a fairly long time without hassles and wasn't worried about anything going wrong.

He was only a few moments into sucking the stranger off when the man had ran his fingers into his hair and held tight. Most didn't let their customers do this, as it was considered to be a more intimate touch. Steve didn't really care. He had no knowledge of what was or wasn't intimate. So long as it got them there, that's all that really mattered. Things only really went south when the man started to talk to him through it.

"Ah, anyone-mmm- anyone ever tell you, you got a fucking _gorgeous_ mouth, kid." This was unusual, Steve knew that much. No one ever talked, and definitely not like this. "Jesus, kid, you-you're-" he panted hard and his legs shook. _'Good, just finish up and get out of here, buddy.'_ Steve thought. This was getting too strange for his taste. He knew bedroom talk when he heard it. "Christ, can-I just, I need to have you. Here. Can I have you? God, please I need you here." He placed both hands on either side of Steve's head and immediately he pulled away, the man moaning with the loss of sensation.

"Look pal, I don't do that. Maybe you should go somewhere else." If he was going to leave the guy with a painful erection, so be it. He couldn't tolerate this. Steve moved to stand up and the man pushed him back down gruffly.

"I don't think you heard me, I need you. I want to take you here. I'll pay you good." Steve shook his head, angry now.

"And I don't think you heard me. I don't do that." Once again he tried to stand and move away, but the man grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and forced him back to his knees, so that they were surely bruised from sharply hitting the concrete.

"Then I'll take what I want." The man spoke, voice low and threatening. He grabbed Steve roughly by the jaw and forced his mouth open. He pushed himself back into his mouth, driving hard and deep into him now, something Steve wasn't accustomed to. The man hit the back of his mouth roughly and his eyes welled up as he gagged against him. This only seemed to encourage the stranger who then began to thrust harder into his throat, now hurting him. The resistance of his throat was apparently gratifying, as the man was moaning loudly and tossing his head back in pleasure.

In between sighs of pleasure he groaned about how 'lovely' Steve was and how amazing it was to be inside him, despite Steve clawing desperately against him, throwing punches, kicks, anything that might make him let go. After what seemed like ages, the stranger grabbed hold of Steve's hair and shuddered to a hard finish deep in the back of his throat, so that he had no choice but to swallow him down. When his orgasm finally ended, he removed himself from Steve's mouth and patted his cheek endearingly.

"There, that was wonderful wasn't it?" Steve only shook, still on his throbbing knees, throat under too much distress to answer him. Instead he spat angrily to get the sour taste of this creep out of his mouth. The man took him again by the jaw and kissed him roughly, though Steve refused to let his lips part again. Nevertheless, the stranger moaned against his lips and ground his new forming erection against Steve's hip as he pulled them both up to their feet. Steve's head swam in confusion and shock and it wasn't until the man was tugging at his underwear that he finally began yelling. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was yelling, but he was making noise and that was what was important. He knew a fair majority of the gay community around him, and knew they protected their own. Someone, anyone had to hear him. He got a few yells out, despite his aching throat, before the man turned his attention away from his underwear to clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Hush, be good, you'll love this. Just relax and let it happen." He pulled off Steve's underwear and pushed him into the wall. God, this couldn't be happening. Something snapped in him and he bit down on the man's fingers until his teeth met bone and the taste of copper filled his mouth. The man pulled away and Steve took his chance to nail a punch on his temple, crumpling him to the ground long enough to get away. He pulled his clothes back into place and ran as well as he could to Bucky's apartment.

When he arrived at the apartment, he didn't even bother to knock or see if his friend was there. He would be, eventually. That was all he needed. Luckily, Bucky was inside, sleeping on his sofa. He startled awake when Steve slammed the door shut and plodded inside, wheezing.

"Steve? What are you-oh hell." Steve hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt as he leaned over the kitchen sink and voided his stomach's contents. Just cum and bile; lovely. Even puking, he couldn't get that asshole out of his system. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he crumpled into the touch, letting Bucky catch him. "Steve-shit. I don't have anything for your asthma…" His eyes scanned over him in alarm. Steve grabbed hold of his shirt front and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his body to cooperate. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, but he supposed to Bucky they just looked like they were welling from an asthma attack. When he got enough breath, he croaked out,

"I'm s-sorry Buck. You were r-r-right. 'm sorry."


	2. Innocent

Steve had taken his time up the steps, taking them one by one at what would be a stretch to even call a crawling pace. He had moved faster when he was asthmatic and had ran until his lungs and body were ready to collapse with fatigue. In this moment however, he was plenty able bodied but not so willing. God, what was he even supposed to say? His mind moved in between and back and forth through Natasha's suggestions. He could definitely tell Tony, but not today. Jesus, not today. Even telling Natasha the bare details had worn him down. Telling Tony…would be different. Why would that be different? He paused on the stairs considering his thoughts. He supposed it was just that Tony and he were friends in a stronger way than he and Natasha were. Not that she wasn't wonderful, but what they had together couldn't hold a candle to what was between him and Tony.

There were still a great many secrets, emotions, and thoughts that Natasha kept to herself, as Steve realized was necessary and, damn, he was plenty okay with that. But it was undeniable the connection and openness that was the relationship he held with Tony. Not that it meant he really revealed a great much more to Steve than he would have to Pepper or Rhodey, but it was something. Something that no one else had with either of the two men, so Steve could damn well cherish that if he wanted to; and he should. Seeing Tony light up with excitement and genuine relief when he probed his thoughts or inquired his opinion just felt so rewarding. It made him giddy to hear him launch into a full bodied demonstration or lecture on whatever he was building in his workshop. Not just the workshop though, movies, culture, politics, anything that Tony had thoughts on (and in that genius mind, there was a hell of a lot) Steve wanted to hear, Christ, _needed_ to hear. But that was just what good friends did…wasn't it?

Steve realized after several minutes of contemplation that he was still standing in the stairwell, no closer to catching up with Tony and saying something, just anything, to explain himself. He forced himself to march heavily up the remainder of the stairs and exited on his floor, outside his quarter doors. His ears had been waiting to hear knocking, pounding, yelling, whatever might indicate that Tony was still there as Natasha had last seen him. But it was empty and still. If Tony had been there, he was long gone now, which naturally couldn't have been a good sign. He sighed of both relief and guilt.

"JARVIS?"

"It is good see you are feeling well, Captain Rogers." The AI spoke too with relief at the edges of his voice.

"Yeah, sorry about that, JARVIS…Is he pissed?" There was a pause of hesitation.

"Sir is…frustrated. I don't believe shutting him out was the most appropriate response to the situation." JARVIS didn't speak in anger at his creator being treated poorly, but his curt attitude made Steve draw into himself a bit.

"Yeah…I agree, J. That was pretty poor of me, but I didn't really have another option."

"I understand and sympathize, Captain. Though, I do think it best if you find Sir immediately and explain-"

"I hear you, buddy. That's what I'm working on." Steve cut him off of essentially the same words Natasha had given him. "Is he in the shop?" Great, more time to mull and worry in his own mind. However, the program did not respond. "JARVIS?" Nothing. Steve ran his fingers through his hair, worrying. If the AI was ignoring him, it was likely on Tony's orders, and overall not a good sign. Steve opened his door, deciding at the very least he needed to shower before approaching the other man. He slide through the doorway and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, telling him there were eyes on him. A movement of fabric confirmed this and Steve whipped around at the intruder. His breath caught in his throat when dark eyes met his. Tony was absently fiddling with Steve's phone and tablet, pieces scattered on the bed as he had undoubtedly pulled them apart for the umpteenth time. He didn't speak but Steve ventured to move closer to him, carefully. When he seemed to finally notice the distance between them shrinking, he spoke softly.

"You know, if you wanted to get away from me so badly, you didn't need to get JARVIS to lie for you. All you have to do is ask politely." Not that that would have kept him away, Steve thought with amusement.

"Tony, no, I didn't-"

"I fixed your stuff." They spoke over each other but Steve let his mouth snap shut. Best to just let Tony's mouth run, hoping eventually his thoughts would tumble out afterwards as they usually did. "I put some old armor on the casing so they won't be nearly as breakable. You'll have a harder time dropping or crushing these to their inevitable deaths, because, Rogers, I know you'll find a way." He tossed one of the slim devices to Steve, who snatched it gently in the air. He turned in over in his hand while the silence sat back into the room, and lightly traced the red and gold armor on the back. Even when he was convinced he hated Tony Stark, he could never deny the Iron Man armor was a work of art in its own right. Feat of engineering aside, Tony had designed the armor to be visually appealing as well, not missing one detail on the suit, no matter how small. So being able to hold it in his hand, and look at its outer shell up close was like a dream for Steve. He had just wished it had been with the armor still wrapped around its creator.

"It's beautiful…" The blond let the words escape from him in an airy whisper. He couldn't hold back an embarrassed blush, as he certainly hadn't meant to say that out loud. He shot a glance at Tony whose face wrinkled into a doubtful look, seeming to ignore the tone at which the words had been spoken, and rather focusing on the words themselves.

"It's nothing spectacular. It's only the Mark IV armor. Doesn't even begin to match the Mark 43 but I thought it would work alright…So…" Steve couldn't stand the devaluing trail off of his words.

"No! It's fantastic Tony. Thank you." Tony shot him a smile that didn't really reach his eyes as he looked up earnestly, hands white knuckling in a grasp as he had nothing to tinker with. You could read a lot about Tony by what his hands were doing. The smile slid off his face quickly and his eyes moved back to the carpet as he spoke.

"Steve, I'm sorry if I pissed you off, or offended you, or- honestly I don't know and I wish I knew what I did wrong, but it won't happen again so please, please don't shut me out, don't- please, Steve, I'm racking my brain and I just-don't know what I did but tell me and I won't do it, just say the word." Tony's words came out as quick as he could get them, looking pained as his shoulders drew inwards making him to appear much smaller than he was. His eyes, when they weren't avoiding Steve's gaze, looked panicked and pleaded with him, to understand what he was trying to say. Steve's heart ached at the sight and the hurried frenzy of words that shook from him. God, what had happened to this man, to make him so fearful of rejection, of abandonment? No, Steve knew the answer to that question and it was best not to dwell on the person responsible.

But it was the fear of being abandoned once more that hung over Tony. Steve knew that much, at least. Regardless of how he felt towards Steve, or anyone else, Tony had an undying need to be loved. He had professed as much one drunken night, when Thor had drank them both underneath the table. He had pulled in Steve tight against his body, both smiling as the Asgardian mead had turned them giddy, and told him he had stopped sleeping around now that he had people he could call family. The sex had all been a despairing search for someone to love him, if just for a night. He had even confessed,

 _"I don't even really like the sex that much. Not usually. I might with the right person, though."_ He had looked with fervor into Steve's eyes, so much so that Steve was sure he was going to kiss him. But he didn't, and the next day they seemed to resume their normal interaction, never a hint of anything that could have happened that night.

After a beat of silence, Steve spoke, just as quick to reassure the brunette.

"You didn't piss me off, offend me, scare me away, or whatever you're thinking in that genius brain of yours. I promise, Tony." He added the last sentence when uncertainty crossed the other's face. Then confusion.

"You're sure? You acted like-" His words cut off as he seemed to realize something. Steve could only give the older man a defeated look as Tony's face shifted in even more confusion. He had put two and two together, but didn't have near enough information to complete the puzzle. Tony had had PTSD, and he had both anxiety and panic attacks. He knew enough to understand that he had triggered Steve. He just didn't know why, and it was eating him up. "I don't understand." He said quietly, now observing the soldier carefully. He waited for an answer from Steve, but none came. Instead, the blonde moved an exhausted hand over his face and he closed his eyes, letting go of the breath he had been holding since Tony started to piece an understanding together.

"I want to tell you, I do. I need to tell you, Tony. Just… _Jesus_ , not today. Not today." He shook his head morosely, feeling Tony's eyes all over him. Any other time, a complete and total turn on, but today it only drained the energy out from him faster. He didn't have the mental stamina for this kind of thing. Both were still as Tony processed everything and finally bobbed his head slowly.

"I gotcha." He rose from his position on the bed and swiftly exited the room. Steve caught him by the arm before he got through the door, and the two made solid eye contact for the first time that evening, rather than brief glances at one another.

"I will tell you, Tony. I just need time." Steve attempted to be as blatantly genuine as he possibly could, but Tony still looked like he hadn't heard half of it.

"I told you, I got it." The smaller man snapped and pulled away from Steve's grip out the door, letting it close with a hint of a slam. The super soldier shuffled to his bed and fell face first onto it with a groan. Christ, what a mess this was turning out to be. As he drifted off to sleep (it was already 4:30 in the morning, after all) he prayed Tony had actually listened to him. Despite the man's thick skin, he had a difficult time not taking things to heart where his friends were concerned.

"God, Tony, just don't get in your own head."

It turned out to be weeks until Steve finally caught him to talk. He supposed that was both of their faults for the delay that had been clawing at them the entire time. In all honesty, Steve had fully intended to tell him within a day or so. Then he began to notice it. There was no more flirting; no more banter, no more teasing, and no more jokes from Tony. Even with prodding and teasing on Steve's side (he sure as hell knew how to flirt and quip right back) Tony had halted all playful interactions between the two.

"I need to drop by S.H.I.E.L.D today. You'll take me there, right?"

"If you need me to. Otherwise Happy can give you a ride."

"You gave me a good enough pounding, I think I'll be sore for a week."

"It was a pretty decent sparring, but I think Thor's probably a better match for you."

"If you're going down, I'm coming." That one had earned him a nasty glare. He didn't really blame Tony, but he was running out of double entendres. And to be honest, he was missing the teasing.

Beyond basic conversation on the field and within the tower, Tony had put quite a distance between them figuratively and literally. Anytime Steve went down to the workshop to sit and watch the genius work, JARVIS informed him that he wasn't even in the tower, but generally out of town. Not that it would have mattered. Apparently, he wasn't even allowed in the shop anymore, as JARVIS informed him he no longer had access one evening. Ten weeks later, that had been the final straw.

JARVIS informed him when Tony came back into the tower at nearly five in the morning. That was usually a time Steve could almost certainly be guaranteed to be asleep, but he had waited all night for the word from JARVIS. Steve ambushed the brunette just as the door to the lab was swinging shut.

"Tony?" He caught the door handle and tried to pull it open, but while it forced itself shut, the handle simultaneously burned his hand to force him to jerk his hand away. The glass darkened before Tony had even taken five steps in the workshop. Steve fumed. "Fucker! JARVIS, open up."

"I'm sorry Captain, Sir does not wish to be interrupted at this time." JARVIS spoke, just as frustrated as Steve was. Clearly, he didn't approved of Tony's avoidance either.

"Then _make_ him open the God damned door." A pause.

"I'm sorry Captain, he has refused and I am unable to speak to him at this time." Steve turned to walk back up the stairs, away from the lab.

"Ok, good idea, Tony! Just ignore everyone you can, that always seems to work out perfectly for you." He spat angrily as he stalked upstairs. Tony, at this point, had believed himself to be safe and left alone to his own for the night. That idea proved to be wrong not five minutes later when a rather large, circular piece of vibranium came crashing through one of the glass panels, revealing a quite livid Steve Rogers. The shield flew back into his outstretched hand as he stomped over to Tony, who seemed to have forgotten the schematics and data before him. Above, Steve could've swore he heard JARVIS sigh,

" _I told you so_ , Sir."

"You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you lately?" Tony seemed speechless for a moment, eyes wide, taking him in.

"Sure, if you tell me what the hell you're doing breaking my shit!" He snapped out of his reverie to quick anger.

"If I have to break my way into your damn lab to talk to you, then so be it, but this is getting ridiculous Tony."

"Excuse me, what's getting ridiculous? That I'm spending time in the lab?"

"Holy shit, don't act dumb, like you don't have any idea what I'm talking about. You're _avoiding_ me, and I'm really damn sick of it." Tony flinched backwards.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I see you nearly all day. I can't have time to myself?" Steve scoffed.

"I could care less if you just wanted time to yourself. Yeah, you see me all day, but you sure as hell don't talk to me unless you have to. God forbid we happen to make eye contact these days. You look sick every time I try to have a damn conversation with you or even sit next to you, so I want an explanation, Tony!" Tony stood up and moved over to fuss over a machine, or at least pretended to, the blonde noticed. His hands fumbled awkwardly over the pieces and tools, and he didn't end up actually doing anything. He really just didn't want to answer Steve. "Alright," Steve spoke a little softer, "sit down, asshole. We're doing what should have been done a long time ago and talking this out." Tony turned around and pulled a defiant look, crossing his arms.

"It's my shop, I don't have to do shi-AH!" He let out a loud gasp as Steve picked him up and pulled him into a fireman's lift. He protested until Steve threw him down into a sprawl on the sofa, and then was eerily still, holding his breath as the larger man stood above him. A light blush donned his face and Steve could hear his heartbeat pick up loudly. Had Steve had been a weaker man, he likely would have forgotten his original intent as Tony's pants grew tight around his groin. He took in a steadying breath.

"When I bolted a few weeks ago, you triggered me, as I'm sure you figured out." Tony's eyes rested on his face. At least he finally had his attention. "Back before the serum, it was tough getting a job, much less a good paying job. No one would hire me, even when the war rolled around, because I wasn't strong enough for most of the work. Surprisingly, people had the decency to worry that I would die on the job. Not that they had the decency to worry whether or not I starved to death or lost my home." He took a pause. " _You can do it. Tell him."_ He thought to himself.

"I don't know if you know this, most people don't, but I grew up in one of the largest gay areas in New York, at the time. My ma, bless her, wasn't really bothered by homosexuals and the property was cheap, so I grew up around a lot of different things than most kids at the time. It was against the law, but around there no one seemed to care who was what and what they were doing so there was some…red light stuff around." He hoped he wasn't blushing as much as he felt he was. "Anyways, it wasn't really a big deal to see some fellas getting jerked off, fucked, or blown around there. So when I was hard on cash, I did the next reasonable step and took up some of that work myself." Tony's brows had been moving higher up his forehead, and now, at their peak his mouth fell open.

"I made the decision not to get in the business of being fucked but I didn't see the harm in giving guys a good time if it just meant sucking 'em off or jerking 'em. I got a pretty good reputation built up in the short time I went cruising for fellas. Few days, they were coming to me. Only bad part of that was I was stupid, and I couldn't really defend myself like most of the other guys could. Bucky…He saved my ass once from getting beat up when a guy wouldn't pay me. But he wasn't there when the worst happened." Steve closed his eyes and tried to keep his throat from swelling shut. He swallowed back his distress and cleared his throat, no longer bothering to see if Tony was still listening.

"There was this guy and he…he wanted to fuck me and I told him no. Well, he didn't want to take no for an answer and I couldn't so no back, seeing as he was easily twice my size. He fucked my mouth pretty brutally but I got damn lucky and got away before he could get his hands on the rest of me. And that was the end of that adventure." He coughed again to clear his throat and blinked back a few tears to force a smile. "So, you can understand why I'm a little… _averse_ to talking about blowing guys."

"I didn't…" Tony throat bobbed with his shock as he searched for words. "I didn't know." His large brown eyes were soft on Steve's face. "How could I not know?" He muttered, mostly to himself.

"Tony, _no one_ knew. I made sure of that. Bucky was the only one who knew for about 70 years, and I don't think he exactly got around to telling anyone that Captain America used to blow guys in an alley for some quick cash." Tony shook his head.

"No, I know that. I figured that. It's just-you act so…"

"Innocent?" Steve grimaced at the word. "I never was. You know, part of being a hero, particularly a dead hero, is that people like to elevate you to heavenly status. You can do no wrong. Captain America wouldn't have sex. He wouldn't know a thing about sex. Being 'pure' is largely an assumption people place upon me when it's widely know that I'm still, all things considered, a virgin. I might be ignorant and bashful at times to new things and the way they work in this age, but I'm sure as hell not innocent, Tony. I'm sorry if that bothers you." He added the last part in, unsure of what to make of Tony's reaction. Thus far, he only seemed stunned, to say the least, that Steve had done anything with anyone beyond simply kissing. And as far as he had known, Steve had only ever been interested in women.

"I'm not really sure why you're apologizing or why in hell you would believe that could possibly bother me, considering I am a well-known slut." Steve frowned at the word.

"You're not a _slut_ , Tony. And besides, you've stopped sleeping with strangers. If people are really so concerned as to who Iron Man is sleeping with rather than the good he's doing then their opinions aren't really worth shit." Tony smiled, eyes sparking slightly.

"I suppose so." He sat up from his reclined position and the shadow of the smile lingered sadly on his lips. "I used to party a lot, you know? Especially before Iron man, wow, there were some serious parties. Things got craziest in my twenties, I think at least, there are some videos still floating around out there, you can google them, but it got pretty bad when I was seventeen, too." His fingers picked at the corner of the sofa, slow and careful. "You know, that was right after Mom, Dad and Jarvis, the original Jarvis, all died. Suddenly I was on my own, save for Rhodey and- yeah. Soon to be head of a multibillion dollar weapons company that I had been repeatedly told I wasn't ready or good enough to run, just about to graduate MIT, and I was seventeen and even more of a narcissistic moron than I am now. So, the budding alcoholic in me went looking for some comfort at parties, and for the most part everything went fairly smooth. I'd get blackout drunk, wake up next to some beautiful person whose name I couldn't remember and Rhodey would drag my ass home.

Well, surprising as it is, since I was spreading my legs to anyone that asked, a girl got a hold of my drink and drugged the hell out of it. I guess she thought that I wasn't legal, I wouldn't consent, so drugging me was the next best option in her mind. She got me into a room at this house party…Rhodey came looking for me not ten minutes later and found me half out of my mind I was drugged up so bad, getting rode by this chick and trying to call for help. I say trying, but it's apparently very hard to get someone's attention when you're too out of it and you have a washcloth jammed down your throat. I don't remember much of it, but that's Rhodey's account so…" His hands were clamped down on the cushions of the sofa, hands splotched in red and white from gripping the fabric.

"Tony," Steve knelt down and put a hand over his, "do you remember it?" He knew him well enough to read when he was struggling with a lie. The smaller man let out a sharp breath. In relief or frustration, Steve didn't know.

"Yeah…more than I should, actually. More than I've let people know. She beat the hell out of me when I wouldn't take me clothes off for her." His voice shook and Steve rubbed his thumb over Tony's hand in comfort. Though, it took a lot of effort for him to hold himself together, hearing the tale of someone actually beating him in what, under normal circumstances, should have been a tender moment. "She choked me pretty badly to get the washcloth stuffed in my mouth, and also to hold me down. Handcuffed me to the bed and hit me more when I tried to fight back. Got a vibrator stuck in my ass, sans lube, as kinky as that sounds I really don't recommend any of that under those conditions. On the bright side, I have a very vivid memory of the shit being kicked out of her when Rhodey came in. Punched her right off of me in one hit. Beyond that, I just remember waking up in my bed with Rhodey and Aunt Peggy in my room."

"Peggy? What…"

"She made sure that crazy bitch went straight to prison. Got S.H.I.E.L.D on the case even, not that there wasn't enough evidence against her to get the conviction but Aunt Peggy wanted to be damn sure. Honestly, I don't even know if she made it to prison. That's just what Aunt Peggy told me. Her skeleton is probably in a well hidden location, now that I think about it." He chuckled weakly, but when Steve looked up his face was tear streaked.

"How long did you hold that in?" Steve raised a hand to wipe away the tears softly.

"Hmm, I need to think about that one. Since… I was seventeen?" Tony smiled, tears still falling.

"Jesus, Tony." Steve breathed out and pulled him into a tight embrace, both letting their tears fall and sobs rake over their bodies. While they held one another, Steve's hand moved comfortingly through thick brown hair at Tony's hairline while Tony's hands ghosted over his back, coaxing tension from the muscles. In what felt like an instinctual move, Steve removed his head from Tony's neck and tilted down to catch their lips together. Tony's mouth opened in an eager gasp and they sucked on each other's tongues, pulling away when they both needed air. Tony's body shook against Steve's and he immediately worried he had pushed too far too soon, until he realized it was laugher.

"I'm making out with Captain America and I'm crying. Wow, this is just not at all how I pictured it." Steve heart fluttered and he blushed.

"You pictured it?" Tony barked out a laugh now.

"Pictured it? Steve, this has been my reoccurring, nonstop fantasy for months now. That's the only reason I've been moping like an idiot. I thought you were telling me you didn't go out with guys because of a bad experience and you were trying to let me down easy. I'm sorry, I feel like a real jackass, considering what you told me." His voice lost its amusement and picked up concern again, but Steve swept a hand over his cheek to reassure him.

"You didn't know. I mean, yeah you acted like a total jerk, but I don't really have it in me to be mad at the moment." Steve teased him with a smile. Tony smiled back and shifted nervously under him.

"I know this isn't exactly the best moment to ask, but Steve, are you…sex repulsed since?" Steve thought about it for a moment.

"No…" He said slowly, "I'm just a little more frugal with my affection, though I've always been pretty certain I didn't want to have sex with just anyone. It should matter. Why, are you worried about it? Are you…?" Tony shook his head, eyes wide.

"No, no, but I understand your 'it should matter' view. It doesn't have any zeal if it's not someone you really care for…For me, at least. And Steve, I really, _really_ care for you." He smirked, affection and lust mixing in his voice. Steve laughed loudly and then spoke seriously once more. Tony needed to hear what he had to say.

"Tony, for what it's worth, I trust you, so much. I'd let you do anything with me, sex repulsed or not, because I know I don't have to worry with you." God he loved him, he surely, definitely loved him. "You deserve all the love in the world Tony, and I want you to have that. I trust you enough to give you everything I have."

"Steve…You need to know also, because I know what you meant earlier I didn't miss that, just because you're not innocent, because of what happened, it doesn't mean you're stained. You're not broken, you're not messed up, you're not tainted, and you don't have any extra baggage. I just want you for you, because I know you're amazing, regardless of what happened. I hope you feel the same way." Steve kissed him again, unable to stand putting it off any longer. Their lips upturned against each other and both were blissed out when they pulled away.

"Tony, I'm going to be really blunt. Regardless of what happened to either of us, I really love you and I want to fuck you senseless right now." Tony kissed his skin where it was flushed and hummed into him.

"I've loved you for quite a while now, and holy shit we should get right to work on that, considering you've got quite the virgin title under your belt. Ouch, don't be mean, it was a joke!"


End file.
